


TellMeSomething......They’ll Miss a Thing

by mimeus



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Multi, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-17
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-15 02:16:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11221197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mimeus/pseuds/mimeus
Summary: There is a serial killer in Rabanastre, one with a penchant for dismemberment. Police have nothing to go on, save for a young man- an artist with a sordid past that seems to be connected to all the victims.Warnings and notes. inside





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello....I felt like writing this instead of a Single Grain. Thank you for taking a look. 
> 
> There’s a really cool horror/mystery/suspense movie called “Tell Me Something”. It is a 1999 Korean movie with some solid plot lines and confusing as hell characters. Anyways, I got inspired by it and wrote this story. I’ll be honest with you, I might not finish because this plot isn’t as solidly planned as my other stories. 
> 
> This is a challenge for me. I want to see if I can write a story that is dark, and very outside the realm of possibility in the canon universe.
> 
> Basch is uncharacteristically soft(??) in this story- I warn you now………..And he won’t show up for….. Awhile. And I am serious, everyone is really out of character, even though I’m trying to not make it so but it’s the situation I’ve put the characters in!! Especially Basch – there is NO HERO CAPTAIN BASCH. This is very sad, soft, victim Basch!!! Ok-I’ll leave it at that.
> 
> Notes/Warnings: Modern AU, abuse! Past abuse! Present abuse!!, DARKDARKDARK, incest, unhealthy relationships, noncon (past), swearing, drinking, murder, and more. If I miss something I apologize, but this is a story about a serial killer (So keep that in mind)
> 
> Pairings: None that is important to the plot(!) This is not a romantic story!! But- mentions/hints of Reks/Rasler, Basch/Noah(Gabranth), Basch/Vossler, and some unsavoury characters that stalk Reks or Basch (Depending on the situation)

 

_“They deserved it, every single one of them. They’re all selfish monsters that just took the parts that they wanted until there wasn’t anything left of him.”_

\--- 

The worst thing about Rabanastre was the unpredictable rain. You would think that the fact that they were in a desert would make the rains more manageable. It had been nice just this morning, without a cloud in the sky.  Rasler muttered a curse as he made his way over to the crime scene, the technicians running around in an attempt to preserve whatever was left of the scene.

 

Typically of them, only scurrying around when it was already too late to make a difference.

 

Ashe was there before him, grilling the witness that found the body, her expression fierce as always. This was why no one wanted to be interviewed by her. She waved the old man away when she caught sight of Rasler before walking towards him.

 

“Heard about your mother,” she said, sliding her pen into the breast pocket of her uniform. “Sorry for your loss.”

 

Her words didn’t quite match her expression, but Rasler was used to such a thing from the emotionally constipated Ashe.

 

“She was already getting there. I was expecting it,” he replied with a shake of his head. “What do we know?”

 

“The body’s been dismembered,” Ashe said, glancing down at her notes. “The witness said the bag hasn’t been there long. He always walks by the alley on his way home and tonight was the first time he’s seen it.”

 

“There’s something else,” Ashe added, raising a thin brow at the other detective. “We’re missing the head.”

 

“Fuck. Can’t make things easy for us, can they?” Rasler muttered, glaring up at the rain once more. “Let’s just get the body out of here. Maybe Balthier can tell us who this unfortunate man is.”

 

\---

 

When Rasler and Ashe went to the coroner several hours later, Balthier was looking impressed for once, nodding at the gory pieces on the steel table.

 

“What the hell are you doing Balthier?” Ashe asked, crossing her arms in front of her.

 

“Ah Princess!”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Ashe growled, hating the nickname. Everyone had long since learned not to call her by it unless they were willing to be severely injured, but Balthier never seemed to get the message. Or maybe the man didn’t care; it wasn’t like they could fire him, he was the best coroner they had.

 

“This unfortunate fellow isn’t one man at all,” Balthier stated, cracking his neck as he spoke. “Even worse than that, I can’t identify a single one of them.”

 

“Explain,” Rasler said, trying to piece together what was going on.

 

“First of all, we’ve got no head, no hands- not even feet! I can’t do any sort of fingerprint or footprint identification, and I can’t look through missing persons. None of the DNA matches anything on file,” Balthier said, throwing his hands up. “Second, while the torso and the calf portion of the body belong to the same man, the thighs and the upper arms aren’t his. Even worse, the thighs and upper arms don’t belong to the same person.”

 

“Shit,” Rasler said with a groan while Ashe gasped in shock.

 

“Do you mean to tell me we already have three victims?” she said, her eyes wide with disbelief. “And you can’t ID a single one?”

 

“Whoa there princess, don’t look at me,” Balthier replied with a shrug. “I can only work with what I got.”

 

Rasler pressed a hand against his forehead. “Do you have _any_ good news for me? Anything?”

 

“It’s not exactly good news,” Balthier said, raising a brow. “But interesting. Fascinating, really. It really is-”

 

“Just say it, you Archadian fool!” Ashe ordered with a hiss, annoyed at Balthier’s coy act. Rasler agreed- he’d rather the man just spit it out than drag this nonsense on.

 

Balthier sighed, muttering something along the lines of impatient Dalmascans. “Fine, you plebeians. It’s horrible to imagine, but the victims were still alive when the cuts were made,” Balthier explained, smirking at the look of horror on Ashe’s face. “Judging by the cuts though, they must have been stationary when it occurred.”

 

“Oh, thank heavens-”

 

“Not to say they didn’t feel it, they just couldn’t move,” Balthier added nonchalantly, unable to resist laughing at Ashe’s expression. “This is what impressed me- whoever did this to the victims had a steady hand, incredibly clean cuts. Probably knowledgeable of the hume body.”

 

“What a nightmare,” Rasler said softly, shaking his head. “We have to let the higher ups know.”

 

Balthier nodded. “By god, you do. A deranged killer is going around chopping people up while they’re still alive.”

 

\---

 

A meeting of detectives was called right away, once the chief got word that the case was one with multiple victims and the crime more horrific than imagined. Rasler and Ashe explained all they knew, which barely enough to fill a single page.

 

“There’s nothing else?” Vossler asked with a frown, once everything was explained. “Three victims, and that’s all we know?”

 

Vossler Azelas was Rasler senior by almost a decade, so he kept his mouth shut against the jab. “Because none of the pieces had any identifiable features, there was nothing else we can use.”

 

Balthier raised his hand with a lazy wave. “We do know they’re all male,” he commented. “And the victim whose torso we have, I would a hazard a guess and say he’s between 30-40, based on the pelvic bone.”

 

Chief Raminas had remained silent the whole exchange, unwilling, Rasler thought, to make it seem as though he is favouring or protecting his daughter. Ashe had worked incredibly hard to get to where she was, and for all her efforts, there were still people that cried nepotism.

 

“This killer must be caught quickly, for the safety of Rabanastre,” Chief Raminas said with a firm voice. “A taskforce will be set up in the old union building next to the station. Detective Heios will lead the team.”

 

Rasler’s brows furrowed at the order but he remained silent. It would make sense to put Vossler in charge, not him, but considering his precarious situation, he would be a fool to say anything.

 

“Detective Azelas, Detective B’Nargin, Detective Golmoria,” Chief Raminas added. “You will assist in the investigation. Dr. Bunansa- I expect you to look for clues with every single body we may find that could be connected to this case. Try to isolate the sedative or anaesthetic that used to knock out the victims, perhaps it will lead us to the victims’ identities. I will have the full list of officers assigned to the taskforce sent around soon.”

 

The Chief dismissed them after that, and Rasler never got around to asking why he was chosen.

 

Not that he didn’t already know.

 

This was the Chief’s signal to him that it was Rasler’s last chance to redeem himself.

 

\---

 

“Sorry that you’re all stuck with me,” Rasler called out to the detectives as he placed the last of his things on his new desk. The move to the old union building had been easy enough, with the grunts doing most of the heavy lifting.

 

Vossler had been his supervisor when he started at the department- it couldn’t feel good to have his subordinate lead a team he was on. Fran was his senior as well and she’d closed more cases than Rasler ever had. Neither had any reason to want to follow his lead.

 

Ashe was the only one that Rasler didn’t mind ordering around, and even then, it was a delicate balance. No matter how much Ashe rallied against the title, the daughter of the chief was not something anyone could ignore.

 

“Think nothing of it,” Vossler replied with a shrug. “You were the one assigned to the case originally. You should rightfully be leading the investigation. I will look into older cases and see if there’s a connection anywhere.”

 

Fran nodded. “We are united here,” she added, pushing her long white hair behind her. “The killer is crafty, we must be quick to catch him.”

 

“Besides, if you fail, you’re getting kicked out,” Ashe muttered, voicing the silent concern that the others felt. “We have to make sure you succeed. Having us all here is our best chance….. You can pay us all back after.”

 

Rasler nodded in thanks, knowing that this team was the best that he could get for a taskforce.

 

But how could he do anything without anything to lead him to the victims’ identities?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is chapter 1… 
> 
> Once again, there isn’t much romance in the plot- just suspense!! And lots of unhealthy relationships @-@ and DEATH
> 
> Please comment ^^;;; This is an experimental story.....


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter summary: The smallest of clues lead Rasler to potentially the most important person in the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in the first chapter.

_“Why did no one ever wonder why the expressions were so vivid? Why they were so full of grief?”_

\---

 

A second garbage bag was found in the elevator of an office building, early in the morning as the first employees were coming into work. Rasler had every person that had access to the building questioned but no one came back as a potential suspect nor did any of the victims looked to be connected to the location. The placement of the bags seemed to be irrelevant to the victims or the killer.

 

Analysis of the garbage bags was a dead end- it was a generic brand available everywhere with neither fingerprints or blood of the killer present. The victim’s blood didn’t match anyone on any databases-yet another dead end. Rasler and his taskforce had nothing. He could only pray that Balthier was able to get something from the bodies themselves. When Balthier called a meeting of the taskforce once he had examined the second batch of parts, Rasler gained a bit of hope.

 

“Congratulations team, we found the thighs of the first torso,” Balthier said with a jaunty wave, as if that was good news. Rasler guessed it was, but it didn’t help the investigation any. “However, the first torso isn’t our first victim. The torso found in the office complex was killed before him. We also have a fourth victim-”

 

“Son of a bitch, doesn’t this bastard know when to take a break?!” Vossler growled, shaking his head.

 

“Indeed,” Fran commented flatly before turning to Balthier. “Have we managed to complete the puzzle on our second body?”

 

“The upper arms in the first bag belong to the torso of the second bag,” Balthier replied, nodding. “This bag also does have feet but they belong to a fourth victim. Odd enough, only the feet of the fourth victim were located. I’m guessing we’ll be getting another lovely package soon enough. We-”

 

“Just tell me you have something good to for us,” Rasler said, almost begging.

 

“Of course,” Balthier replied with a debonair smile. “I wouldn’t go out of the way to call a meeting if it was just _this_. The good news! Our second torso had a pacemaker- it must not have been put in for very long. The serial number is still visible. Now, my good detectives, you can use the number and get a name to a body. Another happy note, the second bag contained a head- DNA matches the thighs of the first bag, so our third victim. He is male, Bhujerban by the looks of it, between the ages of late-twenties to early thirties.”

 

They actually cheered at the words. Finally, a break!

 

“By god man, I could kiss you,” Vossler said with a rare smile.

 

“Vossler, my good man, I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

 

\---

 

The pacemaker identified the victim as Prectarius Ghis, a 56 year old painter with no family to speak of. He was unmarried and had no siblings or children that Rasler could contact. He hadn’t even been listed as a missing person and no one he contacted could pinpoint when exactly they last saw him. A homebody it seemed, content with spending days and weeks on end in his home, painting.

 

“He must have had someone,” Rasler said with a groan, looking down the list of acquaintances Ghis had. A long list of useless people. He turned to Fran, who was compiling her own list. “Who does he have as his next of kin? When he got his pacemaker put in, whose name did he put on the hospital form?”

 

“Vossler went to the hospital to get the information,” Ashe answered. “We’ll know once he returns. For now, let’s try to figure out who the head belongs to. I’m looking through the database for Bhujerban born missing people, but turning up nothing.”

 

“I have the address to Ghis’ apartment,” Fran said. “I will take a team, to see if there is anything of note.”

 

“I’ll go with you,” Rasler said, putting down the list. It was getting him nowhere and starting to give him a headache. “Ashe, can you handle the third victim by yourself for now?”

 

“Of course. I’ll call you if anything comes up.”

 

“Then, let us make haste- we know not what is waiting for us,” Fran said in her calm clipped tone.

 

\---

 

The apartment, a two bedroom home in an upscale neighbourhood of Rabanastre, was impeccably clean, save for a thin layer of dust on the surface. This suggested the man hadn’t been missing long, one to two weeks at most. When Rasler checked the man’s fridge, it confirmed his suspicions- most of the food was still edible, but the fruits and vegetables were beginning to wilt. Furthermore, it was obvious the apartment was not the scene of the murder or the scene of the abduction.

 

“If we assume the man died soon after he left his house,” Rasler stated with a frown. “And since he is the earliest of our victims, we have to think that every one of them died within the last two weeks.”

 

“Balthier did not say that Ghis was the earliest,” Fran corrected. “Simply that he was the first found.”

 

“Hey detectives, I think there’s something you should see,” a uniformed officer said with a frown. “In the bathroom.”

 

They followed the man and found that the bathtub held remnants of a fire. “We already collected a sample,” the man said of the oily remains that Rasler was frowning down at. Why would anyone light a fire here?

 

Fran slid on a latex glove and crouched next to the tub. “The item that was burned,” she said, dipping a finger into the remnant. “A painting, I think. This is paint, and this fibre, it is from a canvas.”

 

“A painting?” Rasler replied with frown. “This man has a mountain of them, why burn just one?”

 

It was true. Ghis’ living room and dining room all had at least three or four paintings hanging on the wall, all done by the man himself.

 

“Perhaps it would have led us to the killer,” Fran said, standing once more. “Let us continue the search.”

 

Ghis’ bedroom was barren save for the basic furniture and a photograph of himself and a group of students. The man had lectured at the Academy of Arts in Rabanastre for several years before retiring. There was nothing of note there.

 

The second room was used as a studio, and unlike the bedroom, it contained a wealth of information. Many of the paintings the victim had been completing at the time were of the same subject. A young male with light, almost white, hair. They didn’t look to be painted in person, more as though Ghis had done the work by memory.

 

“This was the boy the man had his arm around in the photo with his students,” Fran said, her eyes darting from painting to painting. “Our victim, he was an unwanted admirer, it seems.”

 

Rasler sighed. “Maybe. Did he have a cleaning service he used? Maybe someone will remember which painting is missing from the studio.”

 

They left the paintings as is, wanting to keep the locations of the pictures the same, and managed to locate the cleaning service Ghis had used most often within 15 minutes. Soon after that, the cleaner that was hired to look after the place walked from room to room, tilting her head this way and that. Something was going right for once.

 

“It doesn’t look like anything is different from before. These were always the pictures that were hanging on the walls,” she admitted with a shake of her head. “It must have been in the studio, the one that was taken.”

 

She went into the smaller bedroom, flipped through the paintings with a hum. Within a few moment, she snapped her fingers. “Oh, yes! That’s the one that’s gone!”

 

“Which one,” Rasler said, only for a phone ring to cut his words short. He excused himself to take the call, knowing Fran would get the information from the cleaner.

 

“It’s Vossler,” the caller stated. “I figured out the man’s next of kin.”

 

“Good. Who is it?” Rasler asked, pulling out a notepad to get the name. “We’re getting some leads in the apartment as well, thankfully.”

 

“It’s one of his former students from the university,” Vossler replied. “Reks Ratsbane. I thought it was odd, considering he wasn’t known as a close acquaintance of the man. Anyways, I’m going to interview him now. He lives in city, and works in the fine arts museum a couple minutes from the office building.”

 

Rasler had a gut feeling this Reks Ratsbane was the boy in the paintings. “Bring him to headquarters,” he said. “Maybe he knows something about the other victims. I’ll meet you there.”

 

“Sounds good,” Vossler said before disconnecting.

 

He turned to Fran, who was nodding along to the cleaner’s words. Rasler rejoined them only to tell Fran that he was leaving, and to ask that she take care of the rest.

 

Reks Ratsbane was his priority in the case.

 

\---

 

Reks Ratsbane was as pale and fair as Ghis’ depictions made him out to be, with thick lashes that framed alluring silver eyes. He looked even frailer against the harsh light of the lamp in the interview room. The white sweater he wore was big for him, hiding most his hands in the sleeves, and swallowing his frame.

 

Vossler and Rasler sat across from the young man, each scribbling down on their notepads. They would discuss the interview afterwards, to see if one caught something the other didn’t.

 

“So let me get this straight here,” Vossler said with an annoyed sigh. “Your professor who you haven’t seen in almost 3 years makes you his next of kin and the executor of his estate. Does that make sense to you?”

 

Reks’ expression remained an impassive mask. “Of course not,” he said, his voice soft. “But it is the truth. He always made me uncomfortable, always trying to get close to me. He didn’t have any family in Rabanastre, so I felt bad, and tried to spend time with him. So he wouldn’t be lonely. But he misinterpreted that as an invitation to further our relationship. I cut him out of my life after that, kept away from him for the rest of the year.”  

 

“You had no other relationship other than student and teacher?” Rasler asked. “He kept many paintings of you in his apartment.”

 

Vossler’s eyes narrowed minutely, almost unnoticeable unless you were close with the man. Rasler knew that the other detective was hiding his shock. What Ghis was doing wasn’t exactly a healthy thing to do.

 

Reks stared down at the table, white hair curtaining his eyes. “We had dinner together once or twice,” he admitted after taking a deep breath. “He was obsessed with keeping me near. Acted like he had the right to control what I did.”

 

What a creep. Rasler shook his head- it wasn’t time to be judging the victim. He pulled out a picture of the victim whose head they had.

 

“How about him? Do you recognize him at all?” Rasler asked as he passed the picture to Reks.

 

Reks’ eyes widened in recognition. “Yes, actually,” he said. “His name is Havharo. Havharo Heliopas. He’s a cellist. Last I saw of him, he was living in Bhujerba.”

 

“How do you know him?” Rasler said, though he had a feeling that this victim was also a former paramour.

 

“After I graduated, I lived in Bhujerba for six months. To get away from Professor Ghis,” Reks explained, pressing his hands together. “I met Havharo there. He was in the orchestra. I was hired to design a mural in the foyer of the music hall.”

 

“Then what happened?”

 

Reks looked up with a frown. “He had kids, and a wife,” he said. “I didn’t know until I met them on the street by chance. I left Bhujerba then and that was that.”

 

“Never had any contact after that?”

 

“He sent letters a few times, and tracked me down to the place I was living about two years ago,” Reks added. “But then I moved, and made sure he couldn’t find me.”

 

Vossler sighed, shaking his head. Rasler knew he too was wondering how a man could be so unlucky in love. Though, maybe it was something about Reks that drew the type in. “Ok, we’re going to need you to give us a list of your former partners,” Vossler said, passing a sheet of paper. “Especially the ones where things ended badly.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Reks replied, looking down in embarrassment.

 

Vossler slammed his hand on the table. “I’ll be honest with you,” he said. “We have four victims, two of whom were directly connected to you. So, I’m willing bet big that the other two will also be someone you know. You know what, let’s not be candid, I even think the murderer may be connected to you intimately.”

 

Reks bit his lips at Vossler’s harsh tone, but took the pen offered and wrote down a relatively short list of names, and when he had last contact with them. Vossler left with the sheet of paper, most likely to start looking through the list and trying to match anyone to missing persons, leaving only Rasler and the boy in the room.

 

“I know it must be uncomfortable,” Rasler said, knowing that they need to stay in Reks’ good graces. They will almost certainly need his assistance again in the future. “But this will truly help our investigation. And I hope you continue to assist us. For the good of the city.”

 

Rek nodded. His face was still red with embarrassment but his expression was blank. “Is there anything else you need?” he asked, glancing down at his hands. The man’s voice never changed from the soft flat tone, like he was too exhausted to make any other effort. Rasler’s eyes narrowed at that- wondering why Reks did not seem surprised at what was happening.

 

“There is actually,” the detective replied. “One of Mr.Ghis’ paintings was missing, according to the cleaner. Do you by chance know which one it would be?”

 

Fran had the name but it would be good for Rasler to get it confirmed if he could.

 

Reks shook his head, pale hair catching the light at the motion. “I’ve never been inside his home. We weren’t that close.”

 

“I see. Then, is there anyone you can think of that could have committed these crimes?” the detective said, twisting his wrists to crack the joints.

 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Reks said, still staring down, as if it wasn’t worth the energy to meet Rasler’s eyes. “It’s bad for you.”

 

“My habits are my own,” Rasler said with a frown, a little annoyed at the other man. If he is going to comment on it, at the very least he could meet his eyes. “Answer the question.”

 

Reks finally looked up, pale eyes staring down at Rasler as though he was the one with all the power. “Personally detective, I’d rather not think that I’ve interacted with anyone evil enough to do something like this.”

 

Reks did not say another word after that, clearly done with the conversation. No matter what other questions Rasler asked, he remained silent. Soon, Rasler had no choice but to let the man leave, escorting him out of the building.  

 

“We’ll be in touch Mr. Ratsbane,” Rasler said. “We thank you for your cooperation. Now, and in the future.”

 

Reks did not look particularly bothered by the words. His face remained in the same soft, neutral expression as before. A face that showed nothing, and yet also looked to hide nothing- like he didn’t know a single thing in the world. “Of course, detective.”

 

Rasler watched the young man leave, wondering what type of life the man had led to have trained him to employ this doll-like blankness. However, there was something hypnotic about it, something alluring about this soft, quiet, unassuming man.

 

Rasler shook his head, and slapped his cheeks. He had to pull himself together. This was no time to wonder about potential witnesses. He started walking towards the coffee shop three blocks down.

 

He had to clear his head for a bit.

 

\---

 

Fran was already inside when Rasler returned from his break, bearing drinks for the other detectives. He put the tray carrying the caffeinated drinks on his desk before pulling Fran’s and taking it to the other detective.

 

“Did you figure out which painting was burned?” he asked, passing Fran her latte.

 

Fran gave a nod of thanks as she took a sip. “It has to be confirmed by the lab, that what was burned was indeed a painting,” she said. “According to the cleaner, the painting is a copy of Death of Odette. The victim had painted it himself when he was young, as a case study. It was one of his favourites apparently.”

 

“The original? Is it famous?” Rasler asked, taking a seat next to her desk. He’s never heard of it.

 

Fran raised a brow, tilting her head. “Very famous,” she answered, her dark eyes glinting in amusement. “By a Landis-born artist, Mathias Fon Ronsenburg. It is one of his most famous works.”

 

“Sorry that I’m so uncultured,” Rasler said with a roll of his eyes. “Do you think the painting has anything to do with the murders?”

 

Fran frowned. “There must be something and yet there is nothing I can see that connects,” she said. “We will keep it in the back of our minds. The interview, I hear was fruitful, yes?”

 

Rasler nodded. “We might have a real key witness,” he replied. “Reks Ratsbane is connected to two of the victims, and I’m sure he’ll help lead us to the killer.”

 

“What does he do?”

 

“He works in a museum,” he said, crossing his arms. “Restoring old art work, I believe. Ghis taught him in the past.”

 

Fran’s face turned pensive and she tapped her long nails against the table. “It looks as though the world of art is where everything is connected.”

 

“Where’s Vossler?” Rasler asked, just noticing that he was missing.

 

“He has gone to confirm our third victim’s identity,” Fran said, looking towards Ashe’s empty desk. “Ashe has accompanied him. He is an artist too, our third.”

 

Rasler nodded. “A cellist, allegedly. If it is him.” He turned to Fran, frowning. “What do think the killer’s motive is?” No matter how he rolled the thought around, Rasler couldn’t find any motive the killer had for dismembering these men. Fran’s always had a way of reading people so maybe she saw something he didn’t.

 

“From the little we know, the murderer’s ultimate target is looking to be Reks Ratsbane.”

 

“All this for a guy?” he muttered. “I mean, I’ve seen crimes of passion where people went after their ex’s new partners, but this? This is extreme.”

 

“I am not saying that it is the only motive. But it is the only one that is clearly visible for now,” Fran commented, taking another sip of her drink. “In time, more will be illuminated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ball is starting to roll but where it leads is somewhere no one will expect!!
> 
> Balthier is showing up again in the next chapter!! But this is it for now, this is all I’ve written.
> 
> Comments are lovely, as always.


End file.
